If I Could Do It Again
by SALJStella
Summary: Sawyer never planned to tell Kate what she means to him. There's always been a reason, or excuse not to, other than his cowardice. But when Kate falls sick, and he's not sure if he'll ever get to tell her, he remembers the the times he should've done it.
1. Prologue: This Way's So Much Easier

**A/N: Yikes, I'm so nervous about this… This is my first-ever Lost-fanfic, and even though I have absolute confidence that I love Sawyer enough to make him believable, I've still only seen the third season, so I might just make him OOC by not knowing that he turns into an alien in the later seasons or something… And also, because of this only-seen-one-season-situation, I've decided to follow the plotline… Basically just when it fits me. XD Hope you'll like it! (And keep in mind that this chapter's just the prologue. The next one will be longer, I promise.)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Lost. If I did, Kate would act like any sane individual and back the hell away from Jack. **

**Prologue: This Way's So Much Easier**

She's going to be fine. That's what he keeps telling himself.

She's going to be fine, simply because that's the way he's decided that it's going to be, and since that is, he doesn't care about the way Jack looks when he walks out of her tent, doesn't listen to that little voice in his head that icily points out the fact that nothing's ever turned out the way he's decided it's going to be.

Sawyer doesn't listen to any of that. And since he doesn't, neither does he have to worry.

And he's happy about that. Hell, he almost feels sorry for Jack, having to walk around with that expression on his face all the time. The one he always has when he knows that something is terribly wrong, but still refuses to believe that it's something he can't fix.

For that, Sawyer pities him. In fact, he almost despises him. Because Jack's the goddamn _doctor _here, and he's supposed to be their leader or whatever, isn't he supposed to be the one who knows this stuff?

Isn't he supposed to be the one who knows that she'll be fine? That doesn't give up hope, even on someone who hasn't opened her eyes in two days, someone who's brown hair is sticking to her forehead and who's cheeks are burning from the fever eating away at her inside?

Jack comes out of her tent again. With that look on his face. Sawyer feels his mood sink a little further just because of that, and Jack probably senses it, but he still walks up to him and sits down.

"She's getting worse."

"No kidding."

Jack turns to him.

"Don't you want to go see her?"

Sawyer scoffs and looks back at him. At least with his head, his gaze is steadily fixed on a point right above Jack.

"Why?" he asks, makes sure that Jack can't miss his hatred. "Has her barely existing breathing changed a lot since I last saw her?"

And then Sawyer stands up, leaves Jack staring at the place he used to be, because he doesn't want to listen to him. Doesn't want to hear anything that would in any way make him think that he worries.

Never will he accept that if he'd had Jack's ability to even show his emotions in that expression, he would never leave Kate's tent.

He would sit on her bedside, bury his face in her chest, cry-cry-cry, and whisper those words he should've told her so long ago.

**Aw… I love Sawyer when he's sad! It's almost as hot as when he's angry! XD Anyway, this is basically me losing my Lost-writing-virginity, so any comment is appreciated! **


	2. I Do Want What I Haven't Got

**A/N: Okay, since the last chapter was just the start of it, I tried to write the next one as soon as possible. And now, I've updated myself with some Skate-related Youtube-clips, so I at least know the basics of their obvious love… And I must say, I love them even more together now! :) Anyway, here's a new, flashback-enriched chapter that I hope you'll like… **

**1: I Do Want What I Haven't Got**

Sawyer can't sleep. He tosses and turns in his bed, tries to read but the words don't mean anything, even tries to pick up a cigarette but snaps it in halves halfway through because his hands are clenched so hard.

It shouldn't be this hard. This night is really no different from any other night. And he's never had a problem with sleeping here before. It's always been kind of nice with the warm, humid air like a second blanket and the crickets playing outside.

It's just that tonight, the crickets seem to have moved into his head, fluttering, creaking so loud that it hurts.

It's just that Kate is in the tent next to him. He feels her sickness through the distance between them, sees the flush the fever has painted on her cheeks through the fabric.

_Go to her. _

_No. _

Sawyer untangles from his sheets with a muttering curse, sits up and leans his head in his hands for a brief second.

Why would he go to her? What the hell would be better by him going there?

Has he done her any damn good this far, or has he just forced her to chose between him and someone that would sure as hell be a lot better for her?

_Chicken. _

Sawyer sighs and drops his hands.

_You try to convince yourself that you stay away because of her. Even though you haven't done a selfless thing since the day you were born. _

_Don't fool yourself. You don't want to go there because you're a coward. You can't stand seeing her like this, partly because you love her, and partly because you would remember. _

_You would remember her face when her skin tear open in the cut, you would remember the sweat on her upper lip when she fell down on the ground a little later. And you would remember who it was that made her fall. _

Sawyer curses again, stands up from his bed, throws the door of the tent aside and walks outside. The fire he made on the beach earlier is dying out. He sits down next to it anyway.

He's not going to go to Kate. He knows that. Either if it's just because he can't stand that _fucking _way that Jack looks at her, because he never leaves her side since he's perfect doctor Jack who's never done anything wrong in his life, or it's because that goddamned little voice in his head is right, he's not going to go there. He's tried, a few times, but stopped halfway to the tent and turned around, since he saw her through the fabric then, too, and he still hasn't learned to deal with it.

Even though she's going to be fine.

And the one who's going to make her fine is Jack.

That's another reason Sawyer hates Jack right now. He's thought a few times about asking Jack if there's anything he can do to help, so he can at least get some sleep, but that's another thing he only gets halfway through with.

Because he knows that when Kate wakes up, which she _will, _she's going to ask who got her better. And she will ask against better knowledge, because she knows the answer, she's going to look up at Jack and those brown eyes will go soft and sweet like the surface of a chocolate praline in that way he used to make them look, and she's going to see what an amazing person Jack is and they will hug and kiss and blah-blah-blah. And Sawyer will not contribute to that.

Kate doesn't need his help to get better, anyway.

Sawyer's surprised she needs anything at all. One of the reasons he still obsesses over her like a goddamn lovesick teenager is that she's basically the first girl he's ever met that he hasn't had to feel like a father to, never had to be the caretaker or the support, and that's a huge weight off his chest.

Sawyer can take care of himself. But he's so damn focused on not letting anyone else do that for him that he couldn't possibly take care of someone else.

That's why he's surprised that he still doesn't really want to get off this island. Here, it's all about teamwork, dependence. _Needing_ each other.

Every man for himself doesn't work here. But Sawyer barely manages to think the thought before he slaps it away, curses again.

Why wouldn't that work here? Depending on only yourself has worked for him all these years, why wouldn't it work now?

Why wouldn't it work even more when the one person he's ever _remotely _depended on is about to leave him?

_Wasn't she supposed to be okay? _

_Go to hell. _

Sawyer lies down on his back in the sand.

Kate is going to be okay.

But he will be only for himself until that moment comes. Only himself, and those memories that rise to the surface, fresh and searing, refuse to be ignored just to rub it in his face that if Kate does get okay, he will never be for himself, ever again.

"_So I'm here. Where is it?"_

_Sawyer looks up at her. Just that makes his neck hurt even more, his head feels like a rock. One that's throbbing, a dull, grinding ache. _

_Kate looks sympathetic. Like she wouldn't ask him this if he weren't the last way out. Like she feels for him. _

_Like she's the only one on this island that doesn't hate him. _

_Sawyer wants to kiss her. He feels that desire splitting through the pain that's brewing in every bone of his body, like a dull mutter. _

"_Happy to tell you." _

_The sunlight gets matted through the ceiling of leaves above them. It gives a green light to everything, shadows Kate's slightly tanned skin, makes her hair darker._

_In a way, she's more beautiful now than ever. _

"_Soon as I get that kiss."_

_The words are past his lips before he's managed to think them. Maybe it's his emotions talking for him. For once in his life. _

_Kate gets a tiny wrinkle between her eyebrows._

"_What?" she says, not quite as outraged as she could be. "Are you serious?"_

_Sawyer chuckles and leans his head back. He doesn't even feel the pain anymore. _

_He should be ashamed of himself. Blackmailing someone into kissing him is worse than any con, hell, it can be registered as sexual offending, but he isn't. _

_Kate likes him. And he's suddenly so incredibly attracted to her that it takes every ounce of willpower he has not to break out of his ropes like The Hulk, grab her in his arms, glide his lips over her skin just because he suddenly wonders if it tastes different when it's shadowed with green. _

_He wants this. And he's had a crappy day, he's been beaten up to give up information about meds that he doesn't have. He's crashed on an island with people he hates just because he doesn't know what he'd do without them. It's only fair. He deserves it. _

_And Kate isn't as repulsed by the idea as any other woman would be._

"_Baby, I'm tied to a tree in a jungle of mystery," Sawyer says calmly, with a smirk in the corner of his lips. "I just got tortured by a damn spinal surgeon and a genuine Iraqi. Of course I'm serious." _

_Kate lowers her gaze. Still not disgusted, though. Sawyer feels his smirk growing._

"_You're just not seeing the big picture here, Freckles," he continues. "You really going to let that girl suffocate just because you can't bring yourself to give me one little kiss? Hell, it's only first base. Lucky for you, I ain't greedy."_

_Kate still doesn't look at him. At first, he's worried he's scared her off, since he actually cares what she thinks of him for some reason, but then he looks up. _

_And then he gets even more scared. Doesn't know what for. _

"_Okay."_

_Her tone is grave. Sawyer throws his head back again. The pain feels slower now. Darker. _

"_Okay."_

_His lips feel slower, too. In fact, everything seems to happen in slow motion, even when she walks up to him, kneels down in front of him, his breath feels heavier, harder to drop from his chest, the blood feels thicker in his veins. _

_The only thing that speeds up is his fear for something he doesn't know what it is, it manages to go as irrationally fluttering as his lust when she leans forwards, only hesitates a little bit, and then her lips are on his, soft and gentle first. Slow. _

_And then the fear melts away. _

_It's different than all the other women. He could never really separate them because they were all for the same purpose. Their lips were dry and crisp like the dollar bills that were all he could focus on, they all tasted of his own nervousness for what he was going to do and what the sex was just a transport to._

_Kate is not like that. Her lips are wet and full, so careful the first time that he wants more, wants what she doesn't give him, the desire turns into something dark red and sparkling in his chest, and maybe it's the same for her, because she kisses him again. Her lips get harder and softer at the same time, her breath streams over his cheek, his tongue enters her mouth with less confidence than usual. _

_For some reason, Kate still scares him a little bit. Because with every little bit she gives him, he just wants more. When his tongue insecurely explores her mouth, memorizes the insides of her lips, the hardness of her teeth, he wants more, wants her tongue gliding over his when she does the same for him, and she does._

_They're connected for a second, Sawyer feels Kate's reluctance melting away, reveals her own want and allows it to clash with his own before she pulls away again, her breath is shallow and quivering and he still tastes it on his tongue. _

_He looks into her eyes for a second. And realizes that this was exactly what he was afraid of. _

Sawyer stands up again. Now his frustration isn't bitter and gritted anymore, but a roaring, uncontrollable fire, it scores him inside, feeds his resentment when he barges into the tent again, tries to sit on the bed but stands up again.

They slept on that bed together.

So many nights, they slept on that bed together.

Sawyer feels his breath slowing down. Weird, since he doesn't remember it increasing.

Kate is a light sleeper. She always complained about him moving in his sleep, to which Sawyer shot back that she always hogged the covers. And Kate never had a good comeback to that, since she knew that it was true, so she just kissed him, with those soft lips that grew hard if she wanted more, and said that then maybe she should sleep in her own tent tonight, to which Sawyer replied that she could try. And she never did.

Sawyer takes the pillow from the bed and throws it on the ground. He lies down in the sand and puts his head on it, before he remembers that the left side of it always smelled like Kate's hair since that's the side she always had to sleep on, and then he throws it back onto the bed, put both hands under his head and stares at a loose head that hangs from the ceiling of the tent.

He won't get much sleep tonight.

Not tonight either.

**I looooved that scene in the first season… They're so cute together! Anyway, please review! I squeed when I read the ones I got for the last chapter… XD **


	3. Everything Isn't Enough

**A/N: Christ, what a long update… I hope you've born with me for this long! I have so many ongoing fics, and a lot of other things that aren't nearly as important as drooling over a couple that a show/movie has neglected for some reason. It's called SCHOOL! ;) Anyway, I figured this chapter's flashback would be set right after that scene in season three where Kate has sex with Sawyer to make Jack jealous (or uses that as an excuse XD) With that said, enjoy another Sawyer-angsty chapter!**

**2: Everything Isn't Enough**

Next day is no different than the previous. Sawyer wakes up with sand in his hair and a tremendous headache, the bed is one foot away and seems to laugh at him with its clean sheets and soft pillows, but he won't sleep in it. No way.

Sawyer sits up and rubs his temples with a groan. He knows he should go outside, he's slept until noon and he should pull his weight around here now considering he spent basically the first month on this island doing nothing.

He didn't stop that until Kate saw him. The actual him. It was hard not to get real after being called out like that.

And now that she's not around to do that him anymore, he doesn't really have the energy to do anything.

But Sawyer is never going to let anyone know that Kate means that much to him. So instead of lying in his bed all day and wallow in self-pity, he stands up, walks out onto the beach and looks around.

Desmond and Charlie are standing by the shore, maybe talking, or looking for the rescue that no one else dares to hope for. Hurley and Sayid are bickering over a fair way to share the supply of breakfast they have, Claire's shushing Aaron.

Jack's nowhere to be seen. Sawyer's bad mood sinks a little further.

Jack's in Kate's tent, he knows it. Of course.

Because Jack's the kind one and the sweet one, he's the one who's watching over Kate in her time of need and treats her right and gives her everything she deserves, he'd go straight to the Others if they had a cure for her and when she woke up he'd spread rose pedals over the road she walked. Just because he's such a _sweet_ guy.

Well, he's not, that's even more annoying. Jack's an alcoholic, he's driven his wife away from him and ruined his father's career. Sawyer knows that, too. And so does Kate.

But it doesn't really matter that Jack's done all that. He's still perfect. You're supposed to feel sorry for him, book him for an AA-meeting and give him all the support he needs. Because he's _Jack, _and Jack shouldn't be questioned.

_He_ can question anyone he wants, though. Or, he doesn't even have to do that. In fact, Jack's more than happy to fix up everyone's flaws, since he's such a good person. And unlike him, all those mortal people are all humanly flawed and do _mistakes,_ god help him, so of course he helps them when they need it. As long as they see what an effort he goes through for them, suck in every pitying look he gives them and fully realizes that it's _their _flaws he's fixing up.

Because let's face it, no everyone can be as perfect as _Jack._

Sawyer hates him. He hates him with every fiber of his body.

Because if he could, he'd be all of that for Kate. Jack knows that, and it makes Sawyer hate him even more.

He'd do everything Jack does right now. He'd sit by Kate's bedside, give him her blankets and pick miracle cures come out of the thin air with his miracle hands.

But he tried that.

And we all know how well that turned out.

Sawyer tried to ask Kate about this at some point. Why she keeps going back to him, even though Jack would accept him with open arms and even though Sawyer wants nothing more than to punch him in the face, Kate has every reason to love him as much as he knows she does.

And as always, Kate had the answers. The answers he doesn't know what he'd do without.

"_Why aren't you with him?" _

_Kate lifts her head from Sawyer's chest. She probably would look more surprised if he'd asked her at daytime, but now, it's almost three o'clock - he doesn't know how he knows that, his mom used to call it "the built-in clock" - and her hair is still damp with their rough movements and her weak moans. _

"_With who?" _

_Sawyer smiles sleepily and rakes his fingers through her hair. _

"_You know who, Freckles."_

_Kate furrows her brows, props herself up on her elbows. She looks at him accusingly, and Sawyer misses the closure and the warmth on his chest, but he knows he'd have to bring this up sooner or later. He won't be able to sleep at all otherwise. _

"_Why would I be with him?"_

"_Why would you be so desperate to make him jealous that you'd jump me like that?" Sawyer bites back softly._

_Kate's face drops a little, she rolls her eyes the way she does when she knows she's defeated. Sawyer's smile grows, just to hide the bitterness that spreads in his contentment, like a stain on a sheet. _

"_You know he'd be better for you," he goes on and keeps playing with his hair. "He's Mr. Perfect. Treats you like a princess. And he'd back the hell away from Juliet if you wanted him to."_

_Kate smiles now, too. She wouldn't do that if she didn't know she had an argument against this. _

_Sawyer's never been happier to give her right before. _

"_Well, I'm not a princess," Kate says quietly, sneaks her hand back on Sawyer's chest. _"He's _Mr. Perfect, though. He deserves a princess. And I can't be one, I'd bring a lot of demands down on myself I tried to be that for him."_

_The stain on the sheet fades away, Sawyer feels it shrinking under Kate's chocolate gaze. _

"_I don't know if you've noticed," Kate goes on, less solemn now, "but this is… just me. Just Kate. And I can be that with you, because you're just Sawyer. No Mr. Perfect."_

_Sawyer smiles back up at her, even though he feels his usual fear of falling too deep tickling at their moment. _

_This makes him nervous. Nervous and euphoric at the same time. _

_He's never been treated like this before. Like he's more to a woman than an exciting break from her usual, boring life. Like he's attractive as himself instead of the slick, handsome guy with a briefcase, like he himself is actually wanted. _

_But maybe it's just what he thinks. Because he never thinks he's enough himself. _

"_There ain't nothing 'just' about me, Freckles," Sawyer says while his smile turns into a grin. "I'm the full package. Didn't you get that, or do I have to give you another round?" _

_Kate chuckles and puts her head back on his chest. _

"_Not now, honey, I'm tired," she yawns and closes her eyes. "Maybe tomorrow before work." _

_Sawyer makes a fake disgusted noise and sneaks his hand down onto her back. _

"_We're married now?" he mutters and breathes warmly on her forehead. "I thought I was enough the way I was!" _

"_Shush now, James," Kate mutters with a sleepy smile. "We need to get some sleep. We have to get up early tomorrow and drop the kids off at daycare, remember?"_

_She falls asleep right after that. And Sawyer keeps looking down on her, strokes her hair and thinks that as dysfunctional as that family would be, and as much of screeching joy and mind-numbing terror that thought gives him, if there ever would be a woman he'd start a family like the one she talks about with, it would definitely be her. _

Well, that was then, wasn't it.

Sawyer sees Jack coming out of Kate's tent with _that _look on his face, and he instantly turns away and walks down onto the beach, very cautious about keeping a distance between him and everyone else.

Kate can't start a family with him now, even though he still doesn't want to. She has to stay in bed and she'll stay there even after she wakes up. And she's still unconscious, so there's still no use to speculate, and since she's been like that for three days now, there's no guarantee - _yes, he's actually thought it -_ that she'll _ever _wake up…

He knows the other survivors are talking about him. He feels their eyes on his backs even now, hears the voices when they think he's asleep: _He loves Kate, everyone knows that, everyone knows… But why does he act like he doesn't care? _

Well, he's got news for them. Sawyer's pretended to love women all his life. It's what he does. It's work to him. Like Jack when he gets up every morning and puts his pretty white coat on.

Kate's no different from the rest. The only difference is that she doesn't have any money for him to fool her on.

That's what Sawyer's telling himself.

And he knows so frighteningly well that it's not like that at all.

All the sudden, he hears rustling of the sand sinking down on his right.

Someone's sitting next to him. And since Sawyer knows it's Jack, he glares at the sea so hard that it feels like it should start boiling and pretends not to notice it.

"She's getting worse."

Sawyer scoffs.

"You ever get that weird déjà vu feeling, doc?"

"I'm going to need all the help I can get trying to make her healthy again," Jack says flatly, and Sawyer feels him looking at him.

God, he hates him. His body can't even hold all the hatred he feels for him.

"Well, what do you expect me to do, doc?" Sawyer asks smoothly, and actually feels secure enough in his despise to look at Jack. Those disgusting grey eyes. "You're the genius here, ain't you?"

Jack shakes his head with a small smile.

"Not really."

Pause. Sawyer doesn't manage to pretend like he gets what he means. He thought Jack was fully convinced that there was nothing he couldn't do.

Including curing someone who's incurable.

"I need your help, Sawyer."

Sawyer scoffs and looks away again.

"Well, I'm honored," he says, almost sweetly and runs his fingers through the sand next to him. "I guess it's a big step for the fancy doctor asking the apparently lovesick conman for help to cure his missus. But unfortunately, I left my diploma at home, so I think you're on your own."

Jack stares accusingly at him.

"I don't need a diploma to make her better," he says, finally a little annoyed. "I need information. You knew her better than I, you always did. Anything you can tell her would help."

He silences down, like he's looking for the best possible words to make Sawyer soft because he knows this'll be hard enough as it is.

"She can't get an infection that serious by a wound in her hand," he says, quieter now. "It had to be some sort of outside factor that brought it on."

Maybe he's supposed to butter up to Sawyer by saying that he knew her better, but it doesn't work. Sawyer just loathes him even more, despises him from his coldest, deepest core of his soul for saying that, for pointing out his obvious vulnerability.

And what Jack says next doesn't really help, no matter how gently, how wrapped up in his safe doctor-voice he says it.

"And since you were the last person who saw her… Conscious… I hoped you would…"

Sawyer feels something waking up inside him. Something he'd hid with his indifference and his anger as a cover, because he'd tried to forget it, tried so hard that it's a miracle he remembers it well enough to get so furious when Jack reminds him.

"And what the hell's that supposed to mean, doc?" Sawyer hisses and turns furiously at Jack.

Jack can't even look at him. Those goddamned grey eyes are on a spot right above Sawyer's head.

"Well…"

"Oh, for fuck's _sake!" _Sawyer growls and stands up, his movements are quick and jittery. "You can't even _say _it, can you? 'It's your fault she's sick,' isn't that what you want to say?"

"No!" Jack says and tries to sound insulted. "It's just… What did you two do when you were away? If you just tell me that, it'll be so much easier to cure her!"

"You're full of it!" Sawyer blurts out between clenched teeth. "You just want to be the first one to tell her that it was big bad Sawyer that made her sick when she wakes up, and then as an extra treat you'll tell her that it was you who made her better."

_You wouldn't get this mad if it weren't true. _

That voice in his head. He hates that, too.

"Well, I'm sorry, doc," Sawyer goes on, a little calmer. "But I do not wish to assist you with that. If you're looking for that kind of help, go to someone whose dirtiest fantasy is to have a threesome with you two, he'll be damn keen on helping you."

And the he walks away, feels Jack's eyes following him to the tent, and he hates them, hates Jack's eyes, hates everyone else's eyes that follow him, too, and hates Kate's eyes because he knows they're on the other side of the tent cloth, brown and vivid but closed so heavily that he's not sure he'll ever see them that way again.

**Aw… I know I'm the one who wrote him this way, but I really don't get how Sawyer can think that Jack can ever compete with him! XD Anyway, please review! **


	4. What A Whiskey Bottle Reflects

**A/N: YAY! I'm back! And just to be clear, in case I don't manage to make it that way in the chapter: The flashback in this one takes place right after Kate and Sawyer has played 'I Never.' I understood that I've been a little muddled with the previous chapter, so I just thought I'd say that. ;) Anyway, let's check how sulky Sawyer is in this chapter… **

**3: What A Whiskey Bottle Reflects**

The mornings are always the hardest. Sawyer learns that after just a few days of a bed without Kate and a Jack with that goddamn look on his face.

The mornings are the hardest. Because for some reason, there's always something inside him, some small ray of hope he hasn't managed to kill yet, that wakes up, sees the sunlight through the walls of the tent and thinks that Jack's done some progress tonight, or Kate's just gotten through on her own because she just is that strong, that he'll walk outside to see her frizzy hair and modest smile. And that's exactly when he has to stand up, walk outside, see the silhouette of her on her bed through the cloth of the tent next to his, and Jack walking around with that look on his face, and he has to realize, with a disappointment that gets bigger every day, that this day is just like the last.

It's just another day without Kate. And those days are getting harder and harder to pretend to ignore.

Sawyer is still completely determined to prove everyone wrong. Them, with their whispering about how much he loves her and how much he must suffer on the inside and how much he needs someone to gently hold him to their chest and whisper sweet nothings in his poor heartbroken ear.

He won't give them anything that confirms their whispering. They're waiting for it, he knows that. That's not the hard part.

It's convincing himself that's getting a little straining.

He doesn't love Kate. She was just like the rest, just something to pass the time and a way to piss off Jack. And he got a little too involved with that something.

But that extra involvement is getting so hard to shrug off. That involvement that makes him remember other things about her than what he remembers about the other women. That reaches beyond memories of her teeth clattering against his, breath on his face, her small breast under his hand and the nipple ticking his palm.

It's other memories. Worse ones.

_And maybe the only place you'll see her from now on. _

Sawyer waves away the thought. Won't think it unless he absolutely has to.

Kate is the only woman he's ever had other memories with. He refuses to accept that she can just die on him like that.

But if she would, it'd be easier if he could just stop remembering. It's getting so hard.

Remembering the times they had. The good times and the fights that almost seem good by now.

All the times that were both good and bad when he thinks back at them. Because they were all times when he could've said The Words, those words that are now eating him up, inside out, because he's not sure if he'll ever get to say them.

"_Did you want to do it?" _

_Kate looks at him, or maybe it's more of a glare. Like she's trying to determine if he's a monster before he's even answered the question. _

_They haven't said anything for quite a while. The fire is dying out, the night is closing in and they should return to the camp, but none of them have pointed that out. Their feet are still weighed down by the answer to Kate's question, and they can't leave until Sawyer's answered. _

_But there are still so many questions they've answered by now, even after they gave up the 'I Never'-way of asking them. They've both been talking, almost constantly, ever since they finished their little Whiskey bottles, given each other all the basis they need to have the conversation they've both been waiting for for so long, but haven't found anyone to have it with._

_But now, they both know it all. _

_Sawyer knows Kate killed her father. Kate knows Sawyer killed someone when he was looking for someone else. _

_And now, Kate's asked the question that the answer for hasn't left Sawyer's mind for once second since he pulled that trigger. _

_That damn trigger._

_Sawyer looks back at her. He knows he shouldn't be this shocked that she asks. He hasn't shown any signs of regret since he tipped back that tiny Whiskey bottle and her shocked eyes gleamed through the thickening darkness. And if he'd met himself, he wouldn't put it past him to kill someone and feeling nothing. _

_But he still is. Sawyer doesn't know why, but for some reason, he thinks it should glow from him, there should be an aura of remorse around him, the thoughts of what he should've done should be written on his face. _

_Because how can a feeling be so strong as his regret, how can one single thought ring through his head every day, the one of _what if he had a family what if I'll never find the right one, _and not be seen? Not even by her? _

_But Sawyer doesn't say any of that. He puts his hands behind his head, sighs slowly and excerpted. Kate waits. _

"_When I did it, I wanted to do it," Sawyer says slowly, his eyes are hidden in the campfire between them. "But if what you're asking me is if I would take it back if I could, the answer is yes." _

_God, he sounds so casual. And he still wonders how she doesn't get that he regrets it._

_Kate keeps glaring at him, like she hasn't really decided if he's a horrible person just yet. But she seems to give up, he feels her gaze sliding off him after a few seconds. _

"_What about you?" Sawyer asks and looks at her. "Did you want to kill him?" _

_Kate almost seems to blush, she fidgets with her tiny, empty bottle and looks away into the jungle. Sawyer doesn't rush her answer, but he is pretty scared of what it will be. _

_He can see just on her face that she doesn't regret it. And if she says it out loud, she won't be the Kate he knew anymore. _

"_I wish I wouldn't have been forced to do it," Kate finally says, still without looking at him. "But I know there was no other way, so no. The cops don't listen to a poor little shoplifting girl from Iowa… And _mom _sure doesn't, either…"_

_Her voice fades out. They don't say anything for a few minutes. _

"_Jack wouldn't understand, would he?" Kate then says. Whispers. _

_She seems to be talking to herself as much as to Sawyer. But he still listens. _

"_Everything's so easy for him," Kate goes on, stares blindly into the fire. "He has problems, but he always solves them without hurting anyone. When someone beats up your mom, you call the cops. And when the cop is a bastard, you find a better one. It's that simple." _

_Pause._

"_How does he do that, you think?" Kate finishes off._

_Sawyer shrugs. _

"_I think he just got a better deal of cards, Freckles."_

_Kate sighs and leans her forehead in her hand. She still doesn't look at him, but she seems to be aware of his presence now._

"_What do we do with this deal of cards, then?" she says, with an amused sort of dejection, like she doesn't expect him to have an answer, and looks at Sawyer. _

_Now. Now would be a good time to say it. Sawyer feels it, like the warmth of the fire right next to his feet, the log behind his back. _

_She included him. He was a part of her world. They had the same cards on their hands and the same bewilderment about how to deal them. _

_And the worst part is, when he feels Kate's melted chocolate eyes in his own, Sawyer isn't bewildered about those cards at all. They've never seemed simpler than now. _

_If that's not a reason to tell her, he doesn't know what is. _

_That's why it hurts so much that he knows he won't be able to do it. _

"_What we can, I guess," he says simply. _

_He doesn't say anything about that all he can do with his deal of cards right now is focusing on not to kiss her. _

_For the first time since he left his home, he's sitting in front of a beautiful woman, and just wants to enjoy the moment. _

That had been a good time to say it. That is true.

But would that have made this time any easier?

Or would there just be other moments, deeper and more frightening ones, haunting his mind right now?

Sawyer doesn't have time to answer the question before Charlie sits down next to him. Tries not to look uncomfortable. Sawyer doesn't even look at him.

"Hey, man."

"Hey, Blondie," Sawyer exhales and folds his arms around his knees.

Then, they don't say anything. Sawyer stares at the horizon, and Charlie's will to keep the conversation going seems to fade away with every second that goes by.

"You seem to be clashing with Jack a lot," Charlie then says.

He sounds way too calm. Sawyer hates him right now. He hates everyone.

"Yeah, well…" Sawyer says and rakes a hand through his hair. "You know the doc. Always been jackass."

Charlie scoffs.

"You know that's not true, Sawyer," he says softly. "He's a good guy. And he wants to look after Kate."

Now, it's Sawyer who scoffs.

"Please don't tell me you came here to promote his kindness to us poor little people, Napoleon," he says harshly, and looks at Charlie now.

Charlie shrugs. He doesn't seem uncomfortable at all anymore.

"That's not what I'm doing," he says merrily, and stands up. "I'm just saying… We all know you love her to death, you would never hurt her on purpose. So whatever happened to her when you were out with her… No one's going to blame you, you know?"

Maybe he expects Sawyer to break down, put his face in his hand and sob like a little girl, confess his wicked ways so Jack can sail in on his white horse and find a cure to whatever horribleness he brought down on Kate's lost little soul. And maybe that's what he should do.

Maybe that would be best for Kate.

But as it is, Sawyer can't do that. He's never been able to do that.

Something he's very good at, however, is to feel his eyes blacken, his jaw clenching, the rage you only get when you know what you hear is true rising in his chest.

"Fuck off, Chaplin."

Charlie's face darkens a little, too. Good. _Good. _

Even if Sawyer is more faithless than he was when he hid under his bed, heard the bodies hitting the mattress above him and knew, for the first time, that nothing would ever be the way it was, at least he won't let others feel sorry for him. He won't let Charlie know that if he had to pick one day he'd do differently between the day when he killed an innocent man and the one where he just stuck his head into Kate's tent and asked if she wanted to go for a walk, he'd pick the latter.

He won't let Charlie know that the reason he doesn't tell him what happened that day because he can't stand the thought that it's his fault, that he still can't love because it's not safe for him to do so, that everything he touches still falls apart. No matter how many good things he wishes for it.

He's just going to punch into the wind, pull as many as he can down with him, and hope that one day, he'll find peace in just the fact that he's not alone in his misery.

Even though the most important person he could share it with might not ever come back to him.

**Aw, Sawyer's such a little idiot… Why you have to love him, right? XD Anyway, hope you liked the chapter! And that you'll review! **


	5. Two Wrongs Made Right

**A/N: WHOO! I managed to post another chapter! There's still hope for my sinful soul! Anyway, sorry about my slowness… I have all these other fics that need updating, and teachers who obviously had a bad childhood of some kind, and find sick pleasure in torturing innocent teenagers… And flashback-wise, this one takes place right after Sawyer killed… The other Sawyer. XD But either way, update! READ! **

**4: Two Wrongs Made Right**

When Sawyer was younger, he had this theory about why grownups were the way they were.

Of course, that theory was based on his parents, and he developed it after they died. So it might've been the most cynical theory ever thought of by a eight year-old. But still.

Sawyer had this theory that when mommy and daddy were young, it'd been the age before parents. Kids had been born into the world without ever finding out by whom, and when they'd reached the age where they started to be aware of who exactly put the food on their table, no one wanted to tell them who their real parents were.

And the parents in those days had a great way of doing that: They had a sort of rotation schedule within their neighborhood. There were parents and kids, but they didn't belong to anyone. The fathers would walk into one house after work one day, and he'd kiss his wife and ask his kid if they had a good day at school. But that night, he'd take his wife by the hand and walk into the house next door, just like all the other parents on that street, like one big, united, shifting of lives, and the kid would wake up the next morning with another mom than the one who kissed him goodnight giving him breakfast and leaving him for school. No one was rooted anywhere, no one had a place to rest.

Sawyer was fully convinced that his parents grew up like that. The city was their parents, they changed every day. The parents were rootless and the kids were temporary solutions, nothing else.

That's the only way Sawyer's parents could've grown up.

Because only if they had never learned the importance of parents, would they ever be able rob him of his.

It was much easier that way. But of course, that theory only worked in a ten year-old mind. When Sawyer grew up, he had to get used to the fact that he couldn't even blame his parents for everything that went wrong on his life, like everyone else could.

He'd have to put a conclusion to it on his own. And he couldn't cling to the image of that other place. Where no one had any parents.

Not unlike what Kate had done.

Sawyer still hasn't gotten jaded enough to think it's healthy to bond over the fact that they'd both killed someone. But in the meantime, how couldn't they? How could Kate forget Jack's face when she told him what she'd done, how could Sawyer forget the comforting embrace that waited for him that day?

That day where he came back from the Others? And Locke went with them with his father's body on his back?

"_Sawyer?"_

_The sleepy voice from the corner of the tent. Where the bed his. _

_Sawyer's mind works so slowly, everything is broken down to the tiniest details until he's even able to register it, since it's all covered in this one, giant, thick blanket, one single thought that's too grim for anything else to get through. _

I killed him.

"_Sawyer? Is that you?"_

_Sawyer stops by the entrance to the tent. Just to listen to her. _

_That voice used to be enough to make him soft and hot, almost boiling, inside. But there's a good chance nothing will be the same now. _

_That thought almost breaks through his emotional apathy, and Sawyer feels an overwhelming sorrow pricking against his numbness, a small whimper rises in his throat. _

"_Kate…"_

"_Where the hell have you been?"_

_She sits up, Sawyer hears the blanket moving when his legs just barely carry him to the bed where he collapses. Searches for her. _

_The warmth of her body, the smell of her hair. Sawyer grasps blindly for her until he can wrap his arms around her and then hugs her, squeezes her so tight that he hears her gasping right next to his cheek. _

"_Sawyer, what happened?"_

"_I killed him…"_

_Her body freezes up. Sawyer lifts his head from her chest, looks into the needle points of light that are her eyes. _

"_I killed him."_

_She still doesn't reply. Sawyer exhales, slowly, quivering, and feels his head slowly sinking into her lap, he feels his eyes grow big and childish, in wonder of how it sounds, that he could do this. Again. Despite who he did it to. _

_He knows this. Damn it, he _knows _this! _

_He knows what murder does to him. He knows how much of his own soul that dies when he sees that final breath leaving the body. _

_He doesn't feel any of it now, though. He feels nothing at all. _

"_I killed him."_

_Tries to make it sink in. Kate still hasn't moved._

"_Who did you kill?" she finally says after what feels like an eternity, and her voice quivers a little, too. _

"_Sawyer."_

_She doesn't answer right away. He can see her face when she tries to understand what he just said, even though he can't see anything right now. He just knows her that well. _

"_The man who killed your parents?"_

"_Yeah."_

_The darkness presses against his pupils. The darkness seems to be too big to fit into his body, that's why he can't feel it. It's too much. It can't be felt. _

_But when he feels Kate's fingers in his hair, it's like he melts inside, his armor softens and he can let the darkness in, and it's just as painful as he thought, but still not unbearable. Like it's okay that it hurts. _

_Like her fingers doesn't take it away. Just shares some of it with him. _

"_Sawyer…" Kate begins, now her voice is softer, caressing. "I'm so sorry."_

"_It's okay."_

_It comes out automatically. Kate doesn't settle for it, though. _

"_I'm so sorry you had to… Do that again." _

_Sawyer keeps staring out into nothing. The door to the tent is a square of moonlight in the middle of the black. _

_All he feels is her. _

_Now. Now would be a good time to say it. _

_As it is, though, he can't. _

_He's not sure why. He's said it before, once, at least, but for some reason, it feels like it doesn't count. Maybe because he said it that time in the cage, right after they'd slept together for the first time. And that shouldn't count, since he'd said it to so many other women at the same moment, when she was just lying there in his arms, and he tried to pretend like he was relaxed and warm and cuddly, even though his interest in her was long gone. She was a dollar bill lying in his arms at that point._

_Sawyer won't say it to Kate at any other moment. Because there's still some small part of him that's trying to marginalize her to those other women. _

_Even though he knows, so painfully well, that she's nothing like them. _

"_Sawyer…"_

_She whispers it again. _

"_James…"_

_And then, he feels tears welling up. Falling down, from the corners of his eyes, across his nose. And Sawyer, _James, _doesn't say anything after that. _

_He doesn't think Kate sleeps for the rest of the night, because he's still lying with his head in her lap when he wakes up the next morning. _

Sawyer rubs his hands against his face.

That was then. Another one of those moments.

And God knows if they'll have another moment like that. See, one of the reason Sawyer refuses to go see Kate at this point is that he doesn't have to.

Any idiot can tell that Kate is about to die. Because Jack doesn't walk calmly and quietly in and out of her tent anymore, he basically _leaps _through the door of her tent like Superman and yells at someone to get something for him to fix her with. 

Never at Sawyer, though. After all, it's already been proved what he does when he tries to fix Kate.

Sawyer rubs his hands against his face again. Tries to get those thoughts out of his head, because God knows he's thought them enough times.

He can't fix what's already been done. He can't go back in time and make himself act like any other sane person would do. So why torture himself with the images?

_Because you hope that if you go back in time and change it in your head enough times, reality will change, too. _

That's probably true. Sawyer _has _turned back time in his head a lot, and he does it more and more these days.

Because even though he's a smart guy, knows what can and can't be done, that voice will always be in his head, that eternal question about what could've been done differently, and it was the same as Jack had asked him: _What did you do to her, Sawyer, what did you do to her when you were away? _

Yeah, what did he do?

He tried to protect her. That's what he did. But that's not an argument that works against that little voice in his head, because that voice has never been in love. It doesn't know the things that stupid feeling can make you do.

The little voice in Sawyer's head just asks over and over again what he did to her, because it knows that if it asks enough times, Sawyer will forget what really happened when he was out with Kate that day, he'll start thinking that he did what he did out of spite.

He will forget that he may be a smart guy, but that doesn't matter when you're in love. When you're in love, you feel like you're on top of the world, like you can do anything.

Even though you're just a little stupid conman who can't even walk into the tent of the one he loves, look down on the result of his stupidity, and then clutch to her hand, sob against her neck, and tell her what he couldn't tell her before, even when the perfect opportunity was there.

**Yeah, I know I'm sort of shady about what Sawyer did to Kate… But hell, it's all about suspension, right? Suspension and reviews! ;) **


	6. In Your Shadow I Can Shine

**A/N: Boy, am I a slow updater, or what… I hope this chapter is enough to make up for me being such a bitch. Would it be better if I said that in this chapter, Sawyer actually makes the first rational decision he's ever made about Kate since he decided to make out with her in that cage? You know it would… ;)**

**5: In Your Shadow I Can Shine**

One of the last memories Sawyer has of his mother is when she asked him if he'd ever been in love.

"Yeah," seven year-old Sawyer said. "Sure."

"Yeah?" his mom said while she adjusted the collar of his shirt. "With who?"

"Samantha Riley," Sawyer answered, and felt his face heating up when his mother's smile grew.

"Well, that's a nice catch," she smirked and put her forehead to his for a brief second. "She's a very pretty girl."

She was about to put his jacket around his shoulders when he decided to tell her the biggest secret he had at the time.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Sawyer

_- or, at that moment, you were James, weren't you? - _

asked, but lowered his voice, since what he was about to say was deadly serious, almost frightening. It should be put in one of those big envelopes that said CONFIDENTIAL in big, red letters, that's how secret it was. His mom seemed to get that, because she put her ear to his lips, looking at least twice as excited as him.

"She kissed me once," James barely managed to get out before he broke into a hysterical giggle and had to look away, and mom threw her head back and laughed along with him.

She got how important this was to him. Sawyer was a womanizer at that age, too, she knew that all it took was a girl to smile at him in the line at the supermarket, and he'd be happy for the rest of the day. And when it was a girl he was _in love _with, it was of course a completely different thing.

Yes. Sawyer was James back then. And at some other times. But there have also been moments when he felt the very essence of Sawyer sweeping into his soul, entrapping his heart in a thick, black shell, and at those moments, he was terrified that he'd never get out of it. That he'd never be James again.

All those moments were moments when he was with one of those women. The ones who's lips only tasted of dollar bills, because that was all he thought about when he was with them. He didn't pay any attention to them, the sounds they made or the way the sheets twisted around their legs. None of that mattered to him.

And those times when he felt James, that part of himself he'd suppressed for so long, come back to life in such a forceful and utterly _real _way that he couldn't hold it back if he tried…

Those were all with Kate.

_His moans rise from deep within, like a mighty wave from his center, and they fall silently from the gap between their lips, even though there is none, they don't break apart for a second. Always want more. Want her. _

_Sawyer barely feels Kate's hands on his face, the way they almost press his cheeks together in one of those funny faces you did when you were a kid in her desire to press him closer. He barely feels that, because he's busy trying to feel her. He seeks blindly for her skin, her warmth, almost in the way he will do later on that he doesn't know about now, when he's just killed the man he's been hunting for so long, the man he forgets about now for the first time in a long time. _

_It's almost like that. But in the meantime, it's completely different. _

_Sawyer's want for Kate isn't a dull longing for the only thing that seems real right now, but a burning, howling craving, hot waves rocking through his body, settling in his crotch. _

_Sawyer runs his hands over every inch of Kate's skin. Wants her. All of her. Under her skirt, running his rough fingers along the rim of her panties, and always kisses her, deeply, hotly, she moans distantly. _

_She's on top right now, though she doesn't use it in the way he'd like it. Sawyer's still the one taking initiatives, slipping her shoulder straps down, forcing his throaty groans down her throat and she swallows them willingly. Opens to him._

"_What if someone comes in," she whispers in a pause between the collisions of their lips. _

"_No one's coming," Sawyer almost growls, their tongues play together in a way that makes him hot and wild and crazy, and he presses his broad palms against her breasts, anything to relieve the growing pressure between them. Anything. _

_And in the meantime, he'd give anything to make this moment last forever. _

_Anything to keep James and Kate in his heart now and forever, because they're parts of him, he can feel them returning, and he's missed them. _

_He's missed them so much. _

Sawyer clasps his hands and places his thumbs against his temples.

They're just memories. Empty frames on a screen. But, as he notices when he gets up from the ground and actually dares to sit on the bed, they're apparently enough to give him a completely useless erection.

This bed. This damn bed.

All the times they've had sex in it don't seem to be set nearly as deeply in him as all the times they've slept in it.

Her head on his arm. And her snores.

_Stop it. _

Sawyer lifts his head again with a tired groan. He's sick of obsessing over this. If he wants her back, the best thing he can do to show it is to go and try to find a way to cure her, or at least go in there and hold her hand.

The latter would probably be best. After all, he can't look _too _thoroughly for a way to cure her, anyway. We wouldn't want to steal good ol' Jack's thunder, would we?

_Sure. That would be the best way to show everyone that you cared. And you don't do it because…_

Sawyer doesn't even try to disagree with that damn little voice for once.

He doesn't do any of that because he doesn't want people to know that he cares, that's not news to him or the voice. The problem is that the memories get more and more, they're starting to pile up, and he can barely deny them to people that don't know him very well anymore, like Jack or Charlie, and if he doesn't get to show Kate how much she means to him soon, there's a chance he's going to snap, have a nervous breakdown and start banging his head into the nearest palm tree. He feels it.

Because she does mean that much to him. Unfortunately.

He'd prefer it if she didn't. Kate and him are two dysfunctional individuals, they can barely stand each other most of the time and they've broken up so many times that he can barely keep tracks on all the times he's promised himself it'll never happen again. But she does. It is what it is. Kate turns him into James, and that scares him to death, but it doesn't matter. He's stuck. He's forever hers. And there's nothing he can do about it. The least he can do is at least show that he's aware of it.

_So why don't you?_

Sawyer grumbles in the back of his throat and looks to the side of his tent. The side where she's only a few feet away.

_Because I don't want to admit it. _

The voice doesn't even have to rub its victory in. He's well aware of it anyway.

Yup, there's another fact that he can't possibly avoid.

If he admits that he needs Kate, that'd make it even more final. She'd be aware of the fact that his heart is in the palm of her hand, and all she had to do was a good squeeze and it'd be over, thank you, goodbye, we had a good run.

Her unawareness is the only leverage he has. He's going to cling to it with dear life.

_Even if it means you'll never get to be James again?_

Sawyer rakes a gruff hand through his hair.

_Yes. Even then. I've been Sawyer for quite a while now, I'm getting used to the guy. Don't make it sound like I'm captive in my own body, or whatever the hell you call it. _

_Even if you count in the fact that if you don't at least try to go and find a cure for her, she might not be around to be aware of anything anymore?_

Sawyer doesn't answer.

_You coward little son of a bitch. _

He's learned to recognize that voice now.

It's his mother's voice.

Not the soft, caressing one that asked him if he'd ever been in love, but one that's been soiled by the dirt in her coffin, rasped and sharpened. Like a blade.

He doesn't want to listen to it, never does, because it's a cheap impression of her, plagiarism of her wisdom. Rasped plastic.

But that's exactly why he can't disagree with it.

Because he loves it like his mother and fears her like her screams when he was hiding under the bed that night.

Sawyer picks up his head and clears his throat. Okay. Okay.

He's going to go and search for a cure for Kate.

For a little while. Tonight. When no one sees him leaving.

And if he does find something, he's not going to take credit for it. He's actually going to let Jack take the glory for that.

Sawyer didn't mean to cause what happened. He'd do anything to take it back.

But the thought of her waking up and find out just how much he needs her, just how sorry he is for what he did, is almost scarier than her not waking up at all.

Mainly because what's happening right now is a sure proof that it doesn't matter how much she cares for her. She's still not going to be around forever.

**Yes, you WILL find out what happened to Kate soon, it's getting kind of difficult to keep it hidden… :) Either way, I hope you'll review! **


	7. Frailty

**A/N: Hey hey, I have another chapter right here! And as you all may remember, Sawyer made the first rational decision in a long, long time in the last chapter, something I bet we're all very proud of… Let's see how it worked out for him!**

**6: Frailty**

"_Because I wanted you to believe that we had a damn chance."_

That's what he'd said, wasn't it? Before the very first time, in that cage, where he'd known that she might get pregnant and known that the Others could probably see them one way or the other, but when he saw those frightened, begging eyes stare back at him, hadn't cared about that at all, simply because her frail beauty washed everything else away?

Sawyer needed Kate to believe. He needed it because he himself was so faithless that if she didn't believe, he might as well kill himself right there right then, because then there wouldn't be anyone there to convince him that there was a way out of this.

What "this" was, he still wasn't completely sure of. That first time, "this" has been the cage, and after that, all their other times together, "this" had been something even worse. The faithlessness itself, maybe.

Maybe that's why Kate can't die. Partly because it'st just not possible, she's a goddess and goddesses don't die, and partly because if she does, he'll never trust anyone ever again. Which hadn't been a problem before, but will definitely be a problem if he has to go back to it.

He can't go back to where he came from. He can't know that there's something bigger than this, and learn to live without it.

Life can't show him the sweetest of all things, and then take it away. It'll be too much. He won't survive.

Sawyer looks around. Okay. This is good. The darkness is coming in, he has no idea where he is or how far he's gone to get here, and he has _absolutely_ no idea what he's looking for to help Kate. Fantastic.

_You're afraid to look. _

_Go to hell. _

_That's all there is. You're afraid. _

_Or it's dark. Would you just shut up? _

Sawyer looks around again. He really has no idea why he came here. He has zero medical skills, and as far as turning to nature for cures, that sounds more like something Sun would do. With her weird herbs that she dares to give people when they're in pain, assuming that Jin doesn't notice.

_True. But if you dared, you would at least _think.

Sawyer walks up to a tree. Touches the bark.

_Think! Think about what Sun uses, the herbs she grows! _Try_ at least, damn it!_

That's the voice in his head that isn't mean. Sawyer has two people in his mind, constantly battling. One of them is his own self-destruction, that's the one that sounds like his mother. The ghost of his mother.

The same rasping sound as Kate's breathing from the other side of the tent cloth back in the camp. With the same ability to make a small part of him die.

The other one is the one that gives him the strength to go forward. The one who believes in him, and nags him, works him until he believes himself, too.

It's Kate's voice.

Sawyer smiles briefly when the hand on the tree starts to blur in front of him.

Most of his flashbacks are the really big moments he had with Kate. Mostly because the big moments are so big that they're almost too much, too hard. Which is probably a good thing.

If he thought about the small moments, the one where they could laugh, reminisce, tease until Sawyer snapped and stood up to walk away, and Kate stood up also and wrapped her arms around his neck in that way that made it impossible for him to leave… Then he really wouldn't be able to live without

her.

"_Okay, here's one," Kate says and leans her chin against her knees. "What kind of… Fish would you rather be?"_

"_Fish?" Sawyer says and raises his eyebrows lazily. "Um… I'd go for a squid. Then I'd be able to wrap my slimy tentacles around you whenever you laid there pretending to sleep just so I wouldn't grope you." _

_Kate giggles tiredly._

"_I can think of at least fifty weird fetishes you'd act out with those tentacles."_

_Sawyer's smile grows. Kate smiles at him, too, in that way that makes her eyes sparkle and him all soft and gooey on the inside, and puts her hand over her mouth to stifle a yawn. _

"_What time do you think it is?" she asks and blinks, a little longer than what's normal. _

"_Well, whatever it is, it's late," Sawyer says. "You want to go to bed? Which, for the record, doesn't necessarily mean that we're going to sleep."_

"_Nah," Kate says, but still moves over on the bed to lay her head in his lap. "You got one for me? It's your turn."_

_Sawyer has to smile again when he looks down on her. Her face in profile, almost glowing in the light of the torch. _

_The hair flowing over his thighs. The straight nose, the shadows her eyelashes cast over her cheekbones. _

"_If you had to chose between me or Jack," Sawyer mumbles and rakes his fingers through her hair. "Who would you be with?"_

_Kate doesn't answer before she goes to sleep. But Sawyer sees a hint of a smile when his fingers graze over her cheek. _

Sawyer makes a growling noise and the hand on the tree turns into a fist.

Why does he torture himself with this? Why does he bring up things that will only make it harder if she doesn't get better?

It only lasts for a few seconds. Sawyer stands there, naked and exposed, one hand on that tree and the other one over his mouth, trembling, breathing hard.

He misses her.

By god, he misses her.

But then he straightens up. A few deep breaths, and he wipes away one lonely tear that managed to come down.

Okay. Okay. Get a grip. Get a grip for her.

One long, jagged breath.

_For Christ's sake, get a grip for her. _

And Sawyer keeps walking. Somehow.

The reason he hasn't done this earlier is probably that he hasn't gotten it before now. Since he hasn't gone to see her, seen the damage the infection _(you) _had on her, and the image of her on that bed, her hair sticking to her forehead and the breaths sharp and hotly infected…

It's bad enough without seeing it. And worse, it just doesn't fit.

Kate is supposed to climb the bars of her cage and tell her that if Jack can't save him, he has to save himself, she's supposed to wrap her slim arms around his neck in that way that melts him inside. She's not supposed to be weak.

But in the meantime, he knows perfectly well that she could be strong right now, too. It was he who disrupted that balance, shrunk her from being a strong, fiercely burning lightning goddess into that small and pitiful thing she is now. He took it away from her. He _ruined _her.

_And you think you can do something about it now?_

Sawyer stops again and looks around.

_In fact, I do. _

His eyes stop on something.

_I couldn't have avoided what made her sick, because _I _made her sick. I couldn't have saved her from myself, because I would never be able to stay away from her. But I can do something about this. I can save her. _

He's sure he's seen the leaves on that tree before, even if they're almost invisible. He's not sure where, but he's sure of it.

_Put it together. _

The puzzle pieces in his mind go together. Slowly.

Sun had cut herself. No, not that. Scraped herself. She'd slipped down a hill and scraped her knee. She'd been in Jack's tent, and Sawyer had been there, too, for some reason. Talked to him about something. Sun had come in. Jack had put his focus on her, instead. Put something on her knee… Something against the pain.

These are the leaves. These were the leaves Jack wrapped around Sun's knee. Sawyer's sure of that.

And when Sawyer had asked him why, Sun had replied, with a voice laced with tears in an almost childish way, since most people regress about twenty years when they scrape their knees:

"It prevents infection."

It prevents infections. Sawyer stares at it. Can't bring himself to pick it.

That's the cure Kate needs. He knows it.

When Sawyer's free from his emotional paralysis, he picks as many of the thick, dark leaves as he can fit into his hands with stiff, jittery fingers and stuffs them in his pockets.

He's going to save her.

Sawyer can only take a few steps walking, he starts running before it's even smart of him to do so. There's a good chance he's either going to get smacked across the forehead with a tree branch or get lost, but he doesn't care.

Kate is going to be fine.

She's going to sit up, she's going to smile at him, wearily, like always when she wakes up after a long night's sleep.

And for the first time since Sawyer started telling himself that, he actually dares to believe it.

xxxxxxxxxxx

By the time Sawyer gets back to the camp, it's already morning. Then he's ran all the way, but he doesn't even notice that he's panting, his lungs burn with every aching inhalation, and it's not really important, either.

The leaves in his pocket. Their importance almost burns against his thigh.

Sawyer takes another couple of gasping breaths before he runs the last feet up to Jack's tent. The little voice in his head doesn't even break through to him, he just hears a faint whisper of its _but now you're going to have to watch her, are you sure you can do that, are you sure you can see what you've done to her, _because it doesn't matter what it says.

Sawyer may have made her sick. But no way that he's going to let her die just because he can't own up to his mistakes.

Jack's sitting with his hand on Kate's forehead, and looks up when Sawyer comes in like he walked in on them having sex. Sawyer's first impulse is to kick him in the jaw, of course, but he fights it.

_For Kate. _

"So you finally managed to come in here," Jack says and looks back down at Kate.

The small smile means that he's joking. But Sawyer wants to kick him even more.

"I have a cure."

Jack's surprised face when he looks up again was worth that look on his face when Sawyer came in.

"What?"

Sawyer takes the leaves out of his pocket and hands them over.

"Remember," he begins, still panting, "when Sun scraped her knee? And she gave you these to wrap around her knee? They're against infections, right?"

Jack takes the leaves out of his hand and looks at them, like they still need his approval.

Like Sawyer's word isn't good enough.

"Maybe it'll work against her wound," Sawyer finishes off.

He nods towards Kate. But he still doesn't dare to look at her.

Jack looks at him. It's _that _look. The do-you-really-think-you-know-enough-about-this-to-have-an-opinion-look.

"Sun's told me that I can't go look for these leaves on my own," Jack says and holds the leaf between two fingers. "She says they're easily confused with another kind of leaf that doesn't prevent infections, but instead gives you severe seizures."

Sawyer's breathing is calming down, and he shrugs.

"Well, then find her and ask her to check them out."

"She's out catching fish with Jin," Jack says. "She won't get back until night."

Jesus, his eyes don't leave Sawyer for one second. Like he wants to make sure that _that _look really bores into him.

So Sawyer really understands how useless he is.

Sawyer feels his hands balling into fists by his sides.

Bastard.

Nails boring into palms.

Stupid, fucking, condescending _bastard!_

"Well, then it's up to you, isn't it," Sawyer spits out between clenched jaws. "I wouldn't want to be the one disrupting your brilliant mind, so why don't you just decide what to do. _Doc."_

The last word sounds like a terrible curse, Sawyer stares back at Jack with twice his intensity and in a much more frightening way, and it only takes a few seconds until Jack looks down again.

_Victory. _

Sawyer smiles venomously, but it soon fades away.

He feels Kate's presence right next to his field of vision. And not in the way it used to, when she had enough power for him to feel her when she was ten feet away, but more like he feels her because he works so hard not to see her.

Is this the right decision for her? Or does he just want to make a decision?

After a while, Jack shrugs, eyes still on the ground.

"She will be dead by tonight if we don't find a cure for her, anyway."

He doesn't look at Sawyer, because he isn't talking to him.

Sawyer feels a cold stab at his heart, but pretends not to notice it.

Jack loves Kate.

He hasn't realized that until now. Hasn't really wanted to.

"Then do it," Sawyer says.

Jack looks up.

"You know all I ever think about is what I did that day," Sawyer says, but not as dejectedly as he would've liked. It sounds more like he's defending his right. "You think you're the only one who cares about her?"

Jack snorts. Something cold draws in over his eyes, like thin streaks of heavy clouds.

"You've pretended not to care about her since we got here," he says, with icicles hanging from every word. "How am I supposed to know?"

Nails draw blood. Something scraping in the bottom of Sawyer's gut.

He's so angry.

He's so mind-numbingly furious that he barely sees Jack's shrug on the other side of the thin red curtain.

"Fine," Jack says. "We'll give it a shot."

The tone he says it in is more infected than Kate's wound. And in that very second, Sawyer realizes that those leaves are a bad idea, and that's another cold stab, but he doesn't say anything.

Later on, he will ask himself how he could be so stupid, so _incredibly _stupid that he lets his will to prove to Jack how much he cares about her be stronger than his will to prove it to her. But now, he says nothing.

He'd rather have her dying because he cares too much than because he's a coward.

His cowardice has robbed her of the words she deserved to hear from him long ago. It's not going to get her, too.

Jack rubs one of the leaves between his hands until it's a raw, sticky pulp. The cut is on Kate's hand, and Sawyer does manage to look at it when Jack turns up her palm, the purple, fleshy and oozing gash that's not even very deep, or very long, but has still made her entire hand swollen and red. Still manages to ruin everything, everything.

_It was you who ruined it, Sawyer. You know that._

Sawyer looks down at the ground again.

There are limits on his strength. As much as he hates himself for it.

The tent is completely silent as Jack fills the thin, purple wound with the grainy mass. Sawyer can't look at him, or at Kate, can't keep his eyes closed because he just sees all their times together, the times with Kate when they ate grilled fish and stared at the ocean, he wrestled her down on the beach until it got warm and moist and the sweat made the sand stick to her back, the times when they tried to scrape each other's surfaces and get in underneath, but always somehow hoping that there would be more time for that later.

There is never more time. There's only now.

That's the insight Sawyer gets when he hears Kate's breathing stopping.

He doesn't dare to look at her then either, but he does it anyway. Kate's eyes snap open and there's only a glimpse of the gaze that could make him warm inside before they roll over, become ghastly white, and spasmodic jerks shake through her body.

Electric shocks that make Kate's fingers play invisible piano keys by her sides and force gargling sounds up her throat, a small runnel of saliva escapes the corner of her mouth, the sounds keep coming, but she isn't breathing. She's dead before Jack manages to react.

Jack does what he should do. What he always does. Check the breathing _(but there is none) _the pulse _(she's dead, and she died because of you) _and does CPR _(you were James right then, weren't you) _CPR _(I wanted you to believe) _CPR _(that we had a damn chance.)_

And Sawyer…

Sawyer does nothing.

Feels nothing.

When he first heard those sounds coming up her throat, felt a life leaving him and an angel walking past him leaving him alone in hell, he felt one single jolt of pain, the kind of pain that goes through heart and mind for just a moment but never really leaves even though you think so. That one moment.

But that was it.

Everything else is gone now.

Jack takes his hands off of Kate's chest and straightens up. When he turns around, Sawyer only catches a glimpse of the hurt before his eyes roll over, too, and there's a hatred, so raw and full that he almost gets scared.

"What the hell have you done."

There's no question mark at the end, because it's not a question. Sawyer stares back, with twice the hatred.

"I wanted to save her."

"Well, that turned out real _goddamn _well, didn't it?!"

There are tiny glass pearls of tears in the corners of Jack's eyes, but he quickly blinks them away. His hands open and close irregularly, and it's only a matter of time before he punches Sawyer in the face.

"You shouldn't even _try _to save her, Sawyer!" Jack blurts out, and shoves Sawyer towards the opening of the tent. "That's what you tried the last time, and you don't seem to be very good at it, mind you!"

Sawyer fights his hands off, tries to catch Jack's gaze to make him understand that he's on thin ice, he's about to say something that will hurt way too much, before he remembers that that's exactly what Jack wants.

"You may love her," Jack growls, and shoves him again, "but you can't touch a damn thing without breaking it! You risk her life every time you try to get close to her, and now you've _killed _her! You _killed _her!"

Sawyer doesn't even try to disagree. Just tries to blink away his own tears, the big, heavy tears of nothingness that well up, and he lets Jack shove him out of the tent before they roll down.

Like it matters.

Like anything matters now.

Sawyer doesn't even have the energy to walk back to his tent. Doesn't have the energy to care about the fact that everyone's outside and they all look at him with horror, because they all think the same: _If _he _cries… If the emotionless bastard who's never loved anything or anyone cries… Then it's _really _bad. _

Sawyer doesn't care. He sits outside of Jack's tent and cries and cries and cries, listens to the sobs of his rival on the other side of the tent cloth, even though he's not his rival anymore.

He's trapped with Sawyer. Trapped with him in this day, this pointless, empty, empty day, the one day in Sawyer's life that will never be able to be undone.


	8. Love Itself Is A Miracle

**A/N: Hehehe, I'm so evil… I kill Kate, and then I leave you guys hanging for this long! Well, I know you all hate me, but that's okay, because I know you'll love me again when you read this. I'm PSYCHIC! XD**

**7: Love Itself Is A Miracle**

It's weird how your mind operates at times like these.

For Sawyer, it's almost weirder than for most people. He doesn't even think about Kate for very long, his mind immediately drifts off to something that happened months ago. Something he'd actually forgotten until now.

It was probably just the usual panic instincts. Like when you're about to drown, and out of reflex, not because you think about it, you tear away your clothes so you can swim easier.

Sawyer's already drowned, it's already too late. But for some reason, his brain still connects to that day.

Kate wasn't feeling well. She was burning hot and still so cold that her teeth were chattering. Her wound was getting red and swollen, and of course Sawyer felt a bit guilty, but it wasn't his fault.

It wasn't his fault.

Of course they'd called for Sun. This wasn't Jack's area. Sun had looked at the wound, asked Kate how it happened and Kate had answered something vague _(because she didn't want to rat you out, even though it was your fault, you stupid _fuck) and Sun had nodded slowly.

"Let's see what I have in the garden," she said after creasing her forehead for a few seconds.

They had. Sawyer followed them. Held Kate's hand all the while, and acted nicer than he ever had before. Because of guilt, he knows that now. And it's not like it helped, because Sun hadn't had anything in her garden, anyway. Kate looked visibly distressed before she suddenly lightened up and turned to Sun again.

"Didn't you show me a herb ago," she said, in a tone that Sawyer to this day still hasn't figured out if it was excited or desperate. "Something that prevented infections? Even the… Fatal ones?"

That word was hard to get past her lips. Sun shook her head, and that movement was desperate, no doubt about it.

"No, no," she said, like Kate had asked her if her fever would go down if she leaped down from a very high cliff. "That herb I showed you, you must _never _use. Unless you _absolutely _have to."

Kate looked at her, the fever a thin mist over her eyes. Sawyer still held her hand, or rather _clutching _it, because he'd finally felt just exactly how hot it was, how limp.

He still remembers the panic that struck through him at that moment. How he'd turned to Sun, with that friendly panic gone and the furious panic now written all over his face.

"I think she does _absolutely _need it now, Sayuri," he hissed.

Sun shook her head, completely ignored his menacing glance. Then she reached over to a few lonely leaves sticking out of the ground, so small and so few that Sawyer would've mistaken them for something fallen from a tree over the garden rather than something she'd planted in it.

"It's these," Sun said and showed them the leaves. "They prevent infections. But not while you're… Still alive."

The panic went from a silent hum in his gut to a gunshot ringing through his head, and Sawyer's eyes snapped to her face.

"_What?"_

Sun looked from him to Kate. Gravely serious.

"If your infection is fatal," she said to Kate. "If the fever has reached your heart and killed its beat, you can use these. You can rub them under your nose and inhale the scent. But not before then, then it's them that are fatal."

Kate looked horrified. Her mouth was slightly opened, her eyes wide, and Sawyer did the mistake of looking at her right then and knowing, an instinct that replaced the panic with mind-numbing sorrow, that he couldn't live without her.

"That's not possible," Kate said.

She sounded absolutely sure. And in the meantime, more like she was trying to convince herself rather than Sun.

Sun nodded.

"It is."

Kate looked at her with the exact same expression as before for a few seconds. Then she lowered her eyes for a moment, and she looked up again, she almost looked annoyed.

"Well, that's not exactly going to help me now," she said, or snapped, and stood up again. "But if I'd die, I'll let you, okay?"

She walked away with firmer steps than she should be capable of in that state, and Sawyer followed her. He sensed her annoyance radiating from her, and he also sensed that just like with him, it was more than anything an annoyance that was there to cover the panic. He stopped walking, pulled her close to him.

Kate looked at him. Her gaze made it impossible for Sawyer to keep the overwhelming tenderness he felt for her right now in control, so he touched her cheek with the back of his hand, leaned his forehead against hers.

"Don't look so frightened, Freckles," he mumbled. "Witch-doctor over there don't know what she's talking about."

Kate sighed, took his hand again.

"I really don't feel well, Sawyer," she said.

It sounded like a plea.

"I know," Sawyer said, and tried to sound like a mixture of guilt and fear wasn't welling up through his chest. "We'll get you back to the tent and make sure you get some sleep. But I'll make sure you'll never be needing those damn herbs she showed you. Okay?"

Kate looked up at him again. With those warm eyes that were enough to make him weak in the knees.

"You promise?"

Sawyer smiled weakly. Then he put two fingers under her chin and pulled her lips to his, one of those perfect, soft kisses that melted everything else away. Then he pulled back and looked at her again. Into those ocean-deep eyes that he could've drowned in, over and over, if he'd let himself do it.

"It's a promise, Kate."

_It's a promise…_

Sawyer doesn't have time to have another wave of guilt wash over him. He stands up, his fingers are twitching and his hands are shaking, and his knees are weak in the way Kate used to be able to make them, and in the meantime, not in the same way at all.

He runs away to Sun's garden. He finds the leaves, he'd be able to separate them from a thousand others right now. Even though his knowledge about leaves hasn't proven to be the best this far.

Then he runs back to the tent. Jack looks up. His eyes are red and puffy, and when he sees Sawyer, they're also filled with hate. But Sawyer doesn't care. He has the chance to make things right now, and he's going to take it, whether Jack likes it or not.

This all happens really fast. The memory, the running and the running back.

Kate hasn't been dead for longer than about a minute when Sawyer hands these new leaves over to Jack and tells him to just rub them and hold them under Kate's nose, without looking at him like that and without asking any questions.

He has the chance to make this right, and he's going to take it.

It wasn't the promise he made to Kate. But it's close enough.

**Well, I can't say it's realistic that there's a herb that brings back the dead, but… Lost's never been that realistic. ;) And don't think I've forgotten the explanation to why Kate is sick, by the way! You'll find out soon enough! And since I assume you like me again now… Would you review? Pleasy-please?**


	9. Looking For Treasure In Things You Threw

**A/N: Hello hello, here's another chapter from yours truly! I know I keep leaving you with cliffhangers, but see, the glory of being the author is that I can do that, and you don't hate me for it! …I hope. XD Either way, read! **

**8: Looking For Treasure In The Things You Threw**

"_Don't go," Kate says and grabs the rim of Sawyer's jeans when he tries to get up. _

_Sawyer laughs and falls back on the bed. He's a lot less able to fight her than he wants to pretend like. _

"_Why should I stay?" he mumbles and strokes her hair back from her face, their lips inches apart and he's so head over heels in love with her that he doesn't want to kiss her until she's said what she wants to say. _

"_You can't go out there without me," Kate mumbles and grazes her nose over his. "You'll get… Eaten by the wolves."_

"_Oh, there are wolves out there, too?" Sawyer chuckles and locks his fingers behind her back. "Not just polar bears?" _

"_Yeah, there are," Kate grins and leans her forehead against his. "You won't last five minutes out there without me. You won't survive." _

Jack looks at Sawyer, his eyes are raw and puffy in a way that could've been vulnerable if they hadn't sparkled with hate.

"You want to try to save her life again, Sawyer?" he says. "Because I think once is enough."

His voice is so hard, every word carved in stone. It doesn't sound like him at all, because it isn't. Jack isn't himself without Kate, he isn't complete. It's a part of him that's lying lifeless on that bed.

Just like with Sawyer. Jack loves her just as much as she does.

Sawyer doesn't really reflect on this, though. Now is not the time. There's still a chance to fix this, the gaping hole in his chest can be filled, and that power lies in the leaves that are just moist little balls in his fist now.

"_I never wore pink." _

_He has to take a sip from the bottle, but he finds it gets easier every time. _

"Just try them," Sawyer says, swallows the tears and those damn memories, and holds out his hand.

Jack looks at the leaves and then at Sawyer again. He seems more hateful than sad now, one look is enough to clarify how willing he is to try another one of Sawyer's ideas, and Sawyer can't blame him.

"Just try them," Sawyer snaps and beckons with his hand again. "It ain't going to get any worse than it already is, right?"

Jack scoffs and draws his thumb over one eye.

"Wouldn't surprise me," he says, and a glimpse of his sorrow shines through his hard voice. "It does sound like something you would be capable of."

Sawyer laughs, one syllable, completely hollow sound, but doesn't take his hand down.

"You don't have to like me," he says flatly. "You can hate me. I ain't too crazy about myself right now, to be honest."

The same words, in the same tone as he'd talk any other day. The same face, won't let the tears seep out.

This is about saving Kate. He can cry later.

"But I think this stuff can save her," Sawyer goes on. "And since you love her, which I know you do, maybe you oughta focus less on me being a dick and more on rubbing these under her nose so she can inhale them."

Jack chuckles dryly and locks eyes with him again.

"She's dead. She can't inhale a thing."

"Then shove the damn things up her nose if you have to," Sawyer bites back. "Just get them there. And try to get into your goddamn big head that this isn't about me, or you, or us hating each other, it's about the girl that's lying there and that's already dead, and will stay that way unless you do something."

He manages to say it fairly calmly. Jack's so used to him yelling by now, he figured it'd have a bigger effect to tone it down a little bit.

But if Kate does wake up, this is the last time ever that Sawyer will keep his emotions bottled up. Unless it's like now, when he does it for her.

If Kate wakes up, he will live and die for her, catch her when she falls and let her do the same for him, and tell her those words every day, those words he missed out on so many times, like he should've done long ago.

Jack just looks at him. He doesn't seem to notice that he's still crying, when he wipes the tears away, he does it almost robotically. Eventually, he shrugs, sticks his hand out.

"Fine," he says. "Give it."

"_Because I wanted you to believe that we had a damn chance."_

Sawyer swallows another lump of tears and memories when he hands Jack the leaves. It has to work. _Has _to.

Because he needs to believe that they have a damn chance.

xxxxxxxxxxx

"_Hey," Sawyer says and lifts the fold that's the door to their tent. "Come on, I want to show you something." _

_Kate looks up. Her smile is mischievous in a way he hasn't seen it before, and he immediately notices something else that's different about her face. _

"_What's this now?" he says and fakes an annoyed look. "Are you wearing makeup?" _

_Kate stands up, grabs her backpack and walks up to him. _

"_Shannon gave me some of her stuff earlier," she says and plants a quick peck on his lips. "Or, more like I borrowed it and never gave it back." _

"_Well, ain't we stealing shoes from a dead man's feet," Sawyer grins and places a hand on her hip. "But either way, what's the occasion?" _

"_I don't know," Kate says and walks past him out the tent. "What's it to you? Because no way you'd 'show me' something with that stupid, proud grin on your face if it weren't an occasion." _

_Sawyer chuckles and takes her hand. _

"_If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise, would it?" he says and leads her way to the woods. _

_Sawyer will later look back at this moment with a smile. This particular moment, before it all goes wrong, he can actually remember as a happy one. _

_He was so excited. Giddy like a little kid. He was so ridiculously proud over the dinner he'd set up, the blanket he'd spread on a particularly beautiful place in the jungle, where the stars blinked down on them and the fireflies danced in the air, like little devils dance on the tip of the flames in hell. _

_He'd spent the whole afternoon fixing it up. Catching fish, picking fruits, getting drinks from his stash and stolen plates from the closest thing they had to a kitchen out here, ran around like a goddamn moron until everything was perfect, because this was so _fucking_ important to him. It was so ridiculously important to him that every detail about this night was perfect. _

_It was more important that Kate loved every inch of the rough two square meters he'd set up in the wild jungle than it was that those girls, who's liking was what got him his money, liked the starters of the fancy dinners he set up for them. But he won't realize how stupid this is until later._

_This was going to be the night. Their night. _

_And Kate does love it, of course. She gets happy in a more girly way than he'd ever seen her before, jumping up and down, clapping her hands, wraps her arms around Sawyer's neck and kisses him all over the face. But it doesn't take long, in fact, Sawyer has just managed to pour her drink and put her fish on her plate, before she has to ask. _

"_What is all this?" is the question, and Sawyer grins, because he's looked forward to this question more than what he knows is going to happen in bed when they get back to the tent. _

"_Well, Freckles," he says and pours a drink to himself. "I figured I should be allowed to celebrate my favorite girl's birthday." _

_For a second, Kate just looks dumbfounded. Then, it changes to almost suspicious, and she frowns and puts her drink down. _

"_What?" _

_Sawyer smiles and takes the calendar out of his pocket. He figured he'd need evidence. _

"_You've told me your birthday is October eighteenth," he says and browses through the calendar. "And your lord of thieves here happens to have stolen a calendar from the doc, and I've been counting down the days since we crashed. Today's the day." _

_Kate still eyes him up and down, like she's deciding whether to believe him or not. Then she looks at the calendar he's holding, and then at him again. Then her face cracks in a smile, and she kisses him gratefully on the lips. _

"_That's so sweet of you," she says, her hand lingers on his face. "Who knew that there was s little romantic under all that rough manner?" _

"_And the ridiculously handsome face, right?" Sawyer smirks and leans in for more. _

"_And the…" Kate begins and interrupts herself with her lips on his. "…Those lovely muscles…"_

_The kisses get rougher, longer, that hidden flame that Sawyer always forgets is still there and that only she seems to be able to bring out with her body pressed against his comes back to life, and he's on top of her again, pressing her against the ground in a heated, thoughtless longing. _

_Now, Sawyer thinks when his hands are under her top, again. Now, I'm going to tell her. I'm going to stop kissing her and tell her. That's what this was all about, anyway. That's why I brought her out here. Because I love her, I'm so senselessly in love with her that it doesn't even matter that I'm scared to death about it, I love her almost enough to take all that fear away, almost. _

_He's going to tell her. Now. Now. Now. _

_And then Kate yelps something and pulls away. _

"_Damn it!" she curses and pushes Sawyer off. _

_It takes Sawyer a few seconds to get his senses back in order. _

"_What?" _

_Kate mutters and looks at her palm. The blood is seeping in thin runnel down her wrist, and the gash isn't long, and it isn't deep. _

_But as Sawyer will find out later, it ruins everything. Everything. _

"_Let me check it out," Sawyer says and pulls her hand to him. _

_Kate shrugs him off and shakes her head. _

"_It's nothing."_

_Sawyer tries to grab her again. _

"_Come on," he says and sits up. "You're hurt."_

"_It's nothing," Kat says again and picks something up from the ground. "It's just this son of a bitch, I've gotten stuck on it before. It'll heal before you know it."_

_Sawyer looks at the plant in her hand. A long creeper, with thorns in the size of shot glasses. _

"_This never would've happened if we've done this in the states," Sawyer says and throws his hand out, and Kate laughs. "You could kill someone with that thing, you know."_

"_I'll keep that in mind," Kate says and moves over to the blanket, they seem to have rolled off it. "Now, come here." _

_Sawyer starts scooting towards her, but stops in his tracks. The blood has already soaked the blanket from the mere seconds she's had his hand on it. _

"_Are you sure you don't want the doc to look at that?" he says and beckons to her hand. _

_Kate shakes her head. _

"_It's fine."_

"_You sure?"_

"_I'm sure. Now, get the hell over here or I'll go to Jack for different reasons." _

_Sawyer laughs, a little strained, and crawls over to her. Because he loves her, he loves her endlessly, and he'd go to the end of the world for her, so crawling about one meter doesn't seem like a that big deal. _

_That's why he goes to her. That's why he doesn't take her back to camp, that's why he doesn't at least wrap something around that wound. And that's why an hour later, Kate sits up, looks at the wound and states that it's already getting full of dirt and sand, that it already hurts a little more. _

_That's why a week later, that little wound that seemed so harmless is now red and swollen, with the ooze drying stiffly over her palm, and it's ruined everything. _

_Everything. _

Those are the thoughts running through Sawyer's head when he's sitting outside Kate's tent again. He couldn't stand another second of avoiding to look at her, of Jack's accusing glances.

Even though he deserves every single one of them. Because Jack's right, Sawyer's already killed her. Twice. Or three times, to be exact.

Once with devotion.

Once with concern.

And once as a collection of all those moments she deserved to hear the words, but he didn't say them.

_If she does wake up, how will I ever be able to look at her again? _Sawyer thinks to himself and leans his forehead to the hands on his knees.

Jack walks out of the tent. Sawyer isn't sure how long it takes for the herbs to start working.

**Aw, cooperation between the rivals… I love it. :) Now, review! **


	10. There's Always Chance For Redemption

**A/N: Hey hey! I know I left you with a cliffhanger in the last chapter, because… I'm evil like that. ;) But I've picked it up now! And this fic is coming to a close, as sad as it is… But hey, we had some good times. **

**9: There's Always Chance For Redemption**

Sawyer isn't sure how much time has passed.

He doesn't have a watch. And he usually measures it in how many and which activities he's managed to complete. Catching enough fish to make dinner to at least half of the camp takes an hour, and it usually takes Sun an hour and a half to cook it. Bringing dinner to Kate where she's sitting in the tent takes one minute, eating with her takes thirty.

Half-sleeping with her head in your lap, hearing her faint breathing, watching her grey eyes glimmering from the darkness. The warm hand on his cheek, that moment when he can't contain himself anymore and everything becomes sweaty and blurry and heated, her fingers in his hair and the nails buried his back. That takes about an hour.

But how can you measure time with _this? _How can you measure time when all it is is the darkness that's spreading inside and the knowledge that it was true, what she said?

He won't survive without her. She's a part of him, a part that's been torn off, and now he's bleeding. It's gushing from his chest, the empty void there. That part of his heart that belongs to her.

The loss is bad enough, but it's not the worst part. Hell, not even the fact that it's his fault is the worst.

If he'd told her. If he'd told her the words. If he'd made the most of his time with her.

Just that would be enough to get him through this time. Knowing that there's nothing more he could've done to show her how much she meant to him.

_The things you regret the most are the ones you wanted, but didn't dare to do. _

That's his mom's voice again.

For the first time in a very long time, it doesn't make him feel better.

xxxxxxxxxxx

It's starting to get dark. Sawyer's been staring at the same point for the past hour, somewhere around the horizon, wondering where America is and if he'd been happier staying there, never having killed that guy and never having met Kate, without coming up with an answer for that question. But now, he suddenly looks up, at the stars that are starting to appear, one by one, across the blue velvet sky. It feels like a giant shell, enclosing him, protecting him.

Everything could be so easy. He can't help but thinking that.

Even now, in the misery that's so big that it really feels like that beautiful sky has just cracked and fallen down on him, it actually does feel easy. Just this moment, everything's easy and beautiful and the sorrow melts away, just for a second, and it could always be like this. If he'd allowed it to be.

Things would've been different if he'd told Kate the words every day. Things wouldn't be quite as heartbreaking as they are right now. So if she dies and he becomes an even worse person than he was before, it'll be his fault, and his fault only. And in that way, it feels kind of liberating.

He's so sick of turning all his anger outwards.

Suddenly, Jack walks out of the tent. He looks down at Sawyer, and Sawyer really wishes he could've given him a look that he was able to interpret.

"She's awake," Jack says.

He says it in such a neutral tone, Sawyer first thinks that Kate's awakening has a downside of some sort, like that she's alive but in a coma, or that she's alive but has gotten amnesia and doesn't remember any of them. But no. Jack doesn't add anything. Just looks down at Sawyer like he doesn't believe it, and right now, Sawyer can for the first time actually share Jack's feeling.

"Okay," he says.

Jack nods. They're quiet for a bit.

"You should go in to her," Jack says then. "She's… She's in pretty bad shape, but she can take a visitor."

Sawyer raises his eyebrows briefly.

"Don't you wanna…"

"No, you go," Jack says and waves his hand dismissively. "You saved her, and… She did ask for you."

The last part comes out as a mumble, a bitter attempt to make it seem like it doesn't bother him.

Sawyer owes Jack big thanks. For keeping Kate alive as long as he did, and for daring to show his affection, unlike some.

But he doesn't care about that right now. The only things that exist are the crack in the opening to the tent, the heartbeats in his ears.

And when Sawyer lifts the tent door and walks inside, the only thing that exists is her.

Sawyer slowly walks up to the bed, sits down next to her. Kate looks up at him.

Quiet.

Sawyer manages to get the courage to grab her hand, but just the feeling of her skin, _god, he's missed it, _is enough to make his nerves tighten like violin strings.

He knows that she waits for him to say something. But the truth is, as he realizes when their eyes lock and his heart swells, that even now, when he knows that she's safe and that he'll never let anything happen to her again, is he afraid that this is unreal in some way, that she'll vanish in thin air and he'll be left with nothing but the warmth lingering in his hand and memories, so many memories.

But at last, Sawyer clears his throat and pushes the tears back.

"Hey there, Freckles," he says, an attempt to make it sound ordinary.

Kate smiles wearily. Seeing her awake feels like a whole new experience.

"Hey there, Sawyer," she mumbles.

Her voice sounds frail. Sawyer finds himself gripping her hand harder.

"You gave us quite a scare, you know," Sawyer goes on.

Kate chuckles.

"I gave myself quite a scare, too."

Pause.

"Jack… Jack took good care of you, though," Sawyer continues awkwardly. "Don't you wanna see him?"

What the hell is he doing? He saved her, and even if he didn't, he won't let Kate near Jack even if she's wearing a ten-inch thick armor from now on.

Kate seems to be thinking the same. She frowns slightly, even in her dazed condition.

"You saved me, James," she says. "He told me that."

"Yeah…" Sawyer mumbles, and the rest slips out before he's managed to register the thought, "but I was the one who killed you, too."

Kate's frown disappears. Before she answers, she lifts her free hand and puts it on his cheek. Her eyes are getting wet, and Sawyer feels something burning and gooey in his throat, and despite what he's learned by all this thinks _keep it together, you goddamn sissy. _

"You never killed me," Kate says softly. "You tried to save me that first time, too. You just wanted to show that you…"

Her voice fades out, and it takes Sawyer a few seconds to realize what she was going to say. When he does, the horror is like a cold hand around that warm and gooey in his throat, and he suddenly clutches to Kate's hand like she's about to go away again.

She was going to say it, say it for him, but changed her mind.

She thinks he doesn't love her.

"What the hell are you saying?" Sawyer says, half-yells, glaring at her through anger and hot, searing tears, and Kate flinches. "Who killed you if not me? And if not with those goddamn herbs, then with… You think I don't…"

A sob rips over his vocal chords, and he can't go on, can't even look at her, just takes her hand and presses it against his forehead, feels the warmth, the skin, and her, he feels her.

He could've lost her. _He could've fucking lost her. _

The hand that keeps him in gear, those eyes that can keep his feet on the ground and his heart in the clouds. _He could've lost it all. _

"I never told you," Sawyer finally growls out, and looks at Kate again, even though he can barely see her through the mist of tears. "I never told you, and I should've told you… Every goddamn day. Don't you get it? I killed you, _and _pushed you straight into Jack's arms by… Never telling you. I…"

Kate is crying. Her sobs mingle with Sawyer's, and he can't help but thinking about that time in the cages. When everything was lost and their lives had fallen to the ground like shot-down birds, and they made love for the first time.

They'd done it right then, because they're two completely broken, messed up individuals, two lonely souls who need each other for that exact reason. And now is going to be the first time he tells her, when he's clutching to her and they're crying like little girls.

Because they can never show affection before it's almost too late. But that's going to change now.

"I love you," Sawyer blurts out.

Not in the most romantic notion imaginable. The words sort of stumble on his tongue, not used to saying them and mean it.

Then he grabs her shoulders and pulls her into his arms.

It's like that time he held her after he'd killed his father. He clutches to her, aching for her, feels the body in his arms and it feels unreal, like she's a gift from the heavens that's too good for him, damn it, why does he have to almost lose her before he realizes how lucky he is to have her?

"I love you… More than I can tell you," Sawyer rambles on when he feels her arms closing around his back. "You can't ever do that to me again, because if I don't have you, I… What am I supposed to do? Huh? What… What the hell would I do without you? Do you get it?"

He cranes Kate's head back to get a look into her eyes, needs to know that she's understood, and she nods, cries and laughs at the same time.

"Yeah, I get it," she says and puts her hand on his cheek again. "And I love you, too, Sawyer… _James…"_

Sawyer nods.

No, James. He's James right then.

"I love you so much," she finishes off.

James nods again. And then he hugs her, buries his nose in her hair, and tries to relish every second of this wonderful, heart-wrenching pain, because he doesn't know when he's going to lose it again.

James cries. Kate cries.

They're two completely damaged individuals who cry and hug each other on a bed made of straws and half-rotten palm trees on a goddamn island of mystery. He's not perfect. She's not perfect.

But it's as close as it can get right now.

**Wiiie! They're reunited, Kate's alive and Sawyer's gone soft, so I won't have anyone hating me, right? :) Review and make my day!**


	11. I Fought Love, And Love Won

**A/N: Who's completed her first Lost-fic? I'VE completed my first Lost-fic! And it breaks my heart to let it go, of course, but I'm still so damn proud of myself! And you reviewers are the ones who made it worthwhile, so thank you, I love you very dearly. Those who've read and haven't reviewed, sorry, but I don't love you, I just like you a whole lot. So we won't be able to be more than friends, but I hope you understand. XD Anyway, my rants aside, READ! **

**10: I Fought Love, And Love Won **

Kate and Sawyer are in their tent. It is their tent now, and it probably was before Kate got sick, too, even though Sawyer didn't really want to admit it. But it's their tent now, because even though Kate's only slept in it for night since she got healthy, Sawyer spent that whole night holding her in a way that proved he'd never let her go, never again.

Sawyer doesn't know what to say. Neither does Kate. He's not sure if they're still looking for answers, like they always have, but it seems like them to do so. The problem is that he's not sure what the questions are.

Sawyer wraps the arm he has around Kate's waist tighter. He really doesn't know what to say, but then he feels the softness of her skin and how she puts her hands with the too long nails on his, he feels so senselessly in love that it's almost frightening and decides to just ask the first thing that comes to mind.

"Are you okay?"

Kate nods, without a second of hesitation.

"I'm definitely okay."

Sawyer glances down at her. He knows that she knows that he doesn't just mean if she feels better physically, but he still feels like he has to ask.

"I mean… Are you okay with… Living like this from now on?"

"Yeah," Kate says plainly. "Are you?"

"Yeah," Sawyer says.

Pause.

"Have you talked to Jack?" Sawyer then asks.

Kate sighs heavily. And she's quiet for so long that Sawyer first thinks she's not going to answer.

She's imagined a conversation with Jack a thousand times, a thousand different scenarios. Everything from a tearful goodbye, a raging fight, and maybe… Maybe he'd get her to change her mind. He's always been good at that.

"I don't think we have much to talk about," she finally answers quietly.

Sawyer just rakes his fingers through her hair. He knows there's a continuation to that sentence.

"Besides," Kate says with a weary chuckle, "I knew he loved me, but I still I kissed him, ran away, heard him actually say that he loved me and not bother to give him a proper answer, and then I went straight to you and didn't even give him an explanation. He's been taking care of me ever since I got sick, and I didn't even say thanks. I don't think he's that excited about talking to me at all."

Sawyer smiles briefly. He does feel bad for Jack, no matter how much he detests him. But there's still a tiny devil in him that's so happy that Kate's final choice is so obvious to both of them.

"I wouldn't say that," he says softly and runs his hand over Kate's forehead. "In case you haven't noticed, Freckles, he's not the only one you've treated like crap. And for some reason, we still keep bouncing right back to you the second you call. I guess that's what you do to a man."

Kate chuckles, but there's something really desperate about it, and she rubs her eyes with her fingertips while the chuckle turns into a whimper.

"I don't want to do that to a man," she says and grabs Sawyer's hand, hers almost disappears in his. "I don't want to put you guys through this."

She pauses. Sawyer feels her hand in his, and is once again almost paralyzed with the knowledge that he could've lost her, and feels himself holding her tighter again.

"It's just that you're both the most wonderful man I've ever met," Kate goes on. "But in completely different ways. The only reason I ever planned to settle down with Jack was that with him, it was… Easy, and fun, and safe. I didn't have to work so hard. And I knew that whatever he said, he meant it."

She quiets down again. A tiny spark of rage has flared up in Sawyer's chest, mostly out of reflex. He knows she won't go away now.

"It just wasn't meant to be, I guess," Kate finishes off. "Because there was still always something in me that just wanted to be with you."

Sawyer nods.

He's waited so long for this moment. The one where Kate more or less directly said that she's through with the drama, with the jumping around, she'll let her guard down if he does, too so they can for once just let themselves be happy. But there's still an apology in him, or just some kind of reconciliation, that belongs to Jack, and he's going to give it to him soon.

"I missed you so much, Kate," he mumbles out of nowhere, and Kate looks up at him, her eyes glittering.

"I missed you, too."

Sawyer runs his hand down her cheek. Forces himself to keep it together, it feels like he's been weeping for one reason or the other for the past week, let's have some goddamn limits. But he's not as ashamed of it as he would've been before he met her.

"When you were sick…" Sawyer says and hopes his voice doesn't sound as graveled as he thinks it does. "All I could think about was all these times when I should've told you that I… Loved you…"

God, he can still barely get it past his lips.

"…But I didn't," Sawyer goes on. "Because those were all times when I actually caught myself realizing just how much you meant to me. I actually got that for the first time in a very long time, I'd given someone else some kind of… Emotional value, or whatever the hell you call it. And it scared me like you wouldn't believe."

Kate doesn't look at him. But he knows she listens.

"And I promised myself that if you ever woke up…" those words are hard to get past his lips, too. "I'd let you know. I'd tell you every day. You deserved to know. You deserved to hear it way more times than I've told you."

Damn, those annoying tears well up again. Sawyer tries to blink them away before Kate turns around, but they just seem to get bigger, heavier, more, and when she does turn around, one of them roll down.

Sawyer wipes it away with an annoyed motion, even though he knows it's okay. Kate's eyes are damp, too, and he'd feel bad for making her cry, but her smile is wide, her happiness shining from her face in a way he's never seen her before.

"I always knew, Sawyer."

Those words are a hot, soft jolt through his heart, and Sawyer smirks tearfully at her.

"You didn't know half of it, Freckles."

The tears fall smoothly from Kate's eyelashes, too. She lightly pushes him down so he lies next to her, her head on his chest. Sawyer keeps running his fingers through her hair, again and again, and he wants it to stay this way forever, even though he's painfully learned now that it can't be that way.

He knows now that Kate won't be around forever. And that thought is so scary that he should tell her everything. How he loves her more than life itself, even the life he lives now, where he's actually happy, let alone the one he lived before, that seems like an empty, lonely nightmare. How he doesn't regret anything he's done in his life, since every mistake, every life he's ruined and every time someone's ruined his, are just the sum of events that lead him to her, and that the only thing he regrets is spending all that time pretending that he didn't need her.

But he doesn't do that.

Right now, Sawyer just wants to enjoy lying with Kate next to him, cry softly about everything that's happened, and feel, for the first time in his miserable life, like he's actually found a home.

**WAH! It's finished! (Sob) Damn, I'm going to miss this… But hey, keep on the lookout for more Lost-fics from me, because damn, I loved writing this… See ya! **


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